Day 144: An Excerpt

by Tom Noonan

I dream about a comet heading right towards us, right towards earth, our lives, our dinner tables, our jobs.  Everyone knows it’s coming, but they don’t panic.  I feel restless in the calm and scream at them, but they keep going about their lives.  They drive around, buy gas, drop their kids at soccer practice, eat dinner, then argue silently together after reading their kids a story about two frogs and a rabbit, and I’m just there screaming at everyone.  But nothing changes, and the comet begins to grow larger above us, moving across the sky each day, and I’m still trying to get them to notice.

At first everyone just says it’s a star, maybe it’s dying, exploding, a “supernova” they call it, that’s what gives it the strange color, all the gas it’s letting off.  But then it grows.  And then it grows some more, like a sore kept hidden from a doctor.  By the time the comet is hitting us, everyone is under the assumption that it’s the sun.